The Black Notebook II: Role Model
by Celtic Knot
Summary: Sheppard saves a little girl's life, but the tragedy that follows may be more guilt than he can bear.


**Role Model**

John Sheppard winced as he awkwardly positioned his journal on his lap without the use of his left hand. It had been three weeks, and it still hurt like hell to move the arm, which remained as immobilized as Dr. Beckett could make it. It still hurt to _breathe _sometimes. Beckett would probably throw a fit if he caught John doing this, but he had to. He had discovered after his torture at the hands of the Genii Commander Kolya that writing down his more… traumatic experiences could be therapeutic. And it had been the doctor's own damn idea, anyway.

And God help him, he needed to write this one down…

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I think Teyla said the planet was called Tehana. Ironic, how that anagrams into Athena, the ancient Greek goddess of war. Because that's exactly what we walked into.

We stepped through the 'Gate and found ourselves facing two rows of grim-faced soldiers with bows and arrows. They opened fire as soon as we arrived – and we found ourselves caught in a crossfire as _another_ unit came pouring out of the tree line behind us. Evidently, both sides thought we were with the enemy, because too many arrows came flying our way to be accidental. I'm just glad none of the team was injured.

Yet, anyway. Though if it had to be one of us, I'm glad it was me. Even if it did land me in the infirmary – _again._

As the first battalion brought in the heavy artillery – wooden catapults flinging boulders – I realized that we weren't the only ones who had been taken by surprise. A little girl, maybe seven, eight years old, stood frozen at the edge of the forest, bug-eyed in terror. "Dial us out!" I shouted to McKay over the noise of the battle. "I'll be right behind you!" I started to make my way toward the girl, hoping I could get there before a stray arrow killed her.

The soldiers who had emerged from the trees were retreating before the other side's bombardment, diving back into the woods, the others in hot pursuit. I shouted to the girl to get away from there, that she wasn't safe. She must have been confused, though, panicking, because she ran _toward _me – right into the path of a soldier's arrow. He didn't have time to react, and let fly.

What else was I going to do – stand back and watch an innocent kid die? I didn't think; I just jumped, knocking her out of the way, praying that I wouldn't hurt her while trying to save her. Wouldn't that have been ironic. I remember feeling an impact – I didn't even realize I was hit until the pain kicked in. I remember thinking somewhat dimly, _Oh, wonderful, I've been shot_.

The arrow had impaled my left shoulder. Beckett says I'm lucky it missed my subclavian artery – otherwise, I would have bled out inside of eight minutes. I should have realized something was really wrong, though, when I felt my grip on consciousness slipping. I've been shot, and worse, without passing out, and I didn't think at the time that I had lost that much blood that quickly. Turns out I hadn't, but I'll get to that. The last thing I saw before everything faded out was the girl's tear-streaked face.

When I woke up, my whole arm felt like it was on fire. I tried to sit up, but the slightest twitch of my upper body was agony. Even breathing was painful ­­– every inhalation shot burning needles through my chest. My shirt was gone, and there was a bandage over the wound. There must have been some kind of herbal ointment on it, because it smelled strongly of something like eucalyptus.

I was in a large tent, lying on a straw pallet. The opening was on the other end, and outside, I could see a woman bending over a small fire, cooking something. As she ladled something into a bowl, I considered calling out to her, asking her who she was, where my team was, where _I_ was… and if that little girl was okay. But trying to speak somehow didn't seem like a very good idea.

I must have made some sound, though, because she turned around and looked at me. Smiling, she called out to someone to her left. "Kitrani! Come, he's awake!"

What a beautiful name. It almost sounded Italian or something, with the R slightly rolled, a heavy accent on the second syllable, and the N stretched just a little too long. Very musical… I doubt I'll ever be able to pronounce it right.

Not that she'll ever hear me try…

I heard someone running, and a small voice shouted, "I'm coming, Mommy!" Seconds later, Kitrani joined her mother at the tent's opening.

The same little girl who'd been caught in the ambush.

They entered the tent and sat on the ground beside me. "I am Mirai Tilán," the woman said, setting the bowl down beside her, "and this is my daughter, Kitrani." She looked at the girl. "She has something she wishes to say to you."

Kitrani lowered her head, blushing. "Thank you for saving my life, sir," she said shyly.

I mustered a smile. "You're welcome, Kit… Kit…" Yup, speaking hurt, but not as bad as I thought it would. "…kiddo. And you can call me John."

Kitrani giggled and glanced up at her mother. Mirai just shrugged. It was such a classic parent-child moment, I would have laughed if I hadn't known how _that _would end.

"Go outside and play for a while, Kitrani," Mirai instructed her. "I need to talk to John alone for a while."

The girl reluctantly got to her feet. "Can I come back and see him later?"

Mirai turned back to me. "Is that all right with you?"

Of course it was. I liked her already, and said as much.

As Kitrani bounced happily out into the sunlight, Mirai said, "Kitrani told me what happened. What you did was very courageous. Risking your life to save a girl you've never even met… I have never seen such selflessness. You are a hero."

I'm sure _I_ was blushing, this time. High praise makes me _extremely _uncomfortable. "It was nothing." Gritting my teeth against the pain, I tried once more to sit up.

Mirai gently but firmly pushed me back down. "It was certainly not _nothing," _she declared, a hint of maternal sternness creeping into her voice. "Now, be still before you injure yourself further. I have to change the dressing."

She took a fresh bandage from a pocket in her dress and spread it across her lap. Then she gently removed the old one, which was stained with blood and some kind of goo that was a somewhat disturbing shade of green. The wound looked clean, though. Mirai scooped up some of the contents of the bowl – by now congealed to about the color and consistency of Vaseline ­– and I gasped as she smeared it directly onto my shoulder. Not only was the whole area still sore, but that stuff _stung. _"What _is _that?" I asked.

"It prevents infection and draws out the poison."

That was eye-opening, to say the least. "The arrow was poisoned?"

"Yes." Mirai sighed deeply. "We are at war, and both sides will stop at nothing to wipe the other out. I'm sorry you had to get mixed up on it." She pointed at the stuff on my shoulder, which was beginning to turn green. "See, it's working."

Hmm… this is getting long and kind of uncomfortable, so I'll summarize the rest of the conversation quickly so I can get to the point. After a lot of questions and patient explanations, I found out that Teyla, Ronon, and McKay had escaped through the Stargate, but the DHD had been destroyed. The M.A.L.P. sent from Atlantis to see if it was safe to mount a rescue had caused quite a stir in the village. I'd been unconscious for the better part of a day, thanks to the poison, but Mirai had heard voices coming from my radio – Elizabeth had sent the _Daedalus _to come get me. They'd be here in just over a week.

So I had some time to kill. I spent most of that time with Kitrani, telling her about Earth and Atlantis. She hung on my every word – it was a little embarrassing, but cute. As the wound began to heal and I could move around some, we started taking walks together. She took me on the grand tour of the village ("This is where Grandmother lives… this is where I found a pink rock… this is the well we get out water from…" Typical kid), we explored the forest (once, we ran into a hunter named Kirtad, and the three of us wound up chatting for hours), and I showed her the Stargate (the wonder on her face was adorable). Sometimes we would stop, sit down, and just talk. We traded jokes, stories, harmless secrets… laughing hurt (and still does, actually), but I didn't let it show.

She was such a sweet little girl. What happened the day I left was, simply put, not fair.

Kitrani insisted on seeing me off, and I didn't object – I'd become quite fond of her; I almost thought of her like a niece. As we headed toward the 'Gate, I told her what was going to happen, so she wouldn't be scared. "My friends are coming in a big ship, but they'll be so high up, you won't be able to see them. Then there's gonna be a flash of light, and I'll disappear from here and be on the ship with them. It looks weird, but I want you to know that I'll be okay."

She nodded, and turned her beautiful brown eyes up at me hopefully. "Will you come back?"

Oh, that face… That childish, adoring, pleading face will be burned into my memory forever. I'll probably remember every detail of those last few moments for the rest of my life.

I knelt in front of her. "Probably not. I'm sorry, but this is goodbye for good."

If only I knew how true that was.

Kitrani's lower lip quivered, then she stepped forward and gave me a hug, sniffling. "Goodbye, John," she whispered.

I put my good arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "Goodbye, kiddo." I stepped away from her to stand in front of the Stargate. There was a flash of movement in the forest – Kirtad was only a few meters away, bow in hand, arrow notched, tracking an animal. I waved, but he didn't see me. Kitrani turned to look, and called out to him.

I didn't see what happened. Maybe she'd startled him, throwing off his aim… I don't know. I just heard Kitrani shriek, _"John!"_

The last thing I saw before _Daedalus _beamed me up was Kirtad's horrified face as Kitrani threw herself into the path of the stray arrow that probably would have killed me. It pierced her delicate little throat, forever silencing that sweet voice, extinguishing that bright young life…

I begged Col. Caldwell to send me back, but _Daedalus _had a schedule to keep. I didn't care, but Caldwell was unyielding. I couldn't even tell Mirai what had happened.

Why? That's what I'd like to know. For God's sake, she was eight years old! If what goes around really does come back around, I should be careful what I give to little kids…

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Sheppard stared that the last paragraph. It hadn't come out right. It didn't even _begin _to describe how utterly devastated Kitrani's death had left him. But it wasn't exactly something he could put into words.

Did it matter, though? As he shut the black notebook and laid it aside, John wondered whom he was writing _to..._

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**Author's Note:** I've made some edits to the ending to deal with the credibility issues raised by Linnzi and togitnj. Thanks, guys! 


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